


Distractions

by WattStalf



Series: it's just piss [41]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Desperation, Gen, Omorashi, Wetting, bullshit, i dunno what im doing with my life, male omorashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 23:05:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6259735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WattStalf/pseuds/WattStalf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is trying very hard to get some privacy, but a few distractions get in the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distractions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OMOWatcher](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OMOWatcher/gifts).



> This prompt was given to me back in like July, I think, and I wrote the first couple paragraphs but never finished it. Now I am writing it because OmoWatcher has given my fics ample attention and at some point asked if I planned to write anymore Tony. Seemed good incentive to pick this back up.  
> Prompt: The avengers have a press conference and Tony is getting more and more desperate as it goes on so when it ends he practically rushes to the tower and up to his floor but the avengers prevent him from going to the bathroom (by asking him questions and stuff like what he wants for dinner etc.) and when thee finally leave him alone his body just lets go and then he's embarrassed and just wants to hide.  
> 

Finally, at long last, the seemingly endless press conference was over. Under most circumstances, Tony didn't mind things- hear himself talk was always fun, after all- but this time, he had been a little preoccupied and had wanted it to come to an end for quite some time.

The fact of the matter was that he desperately needed to piss and had for quite some time. Talking with the press about a minuscule threat that had already been taken care of alongside his fellow Avengers was nothing but a hindrance to the relief that he really, _really_ needed.

But now, he was finally free to go upstairs and take care of that problem once and for all. He could not move fast enough, though his full bladder made moving quickly less than idea. So he took as much time as he could afford, trying to find the perfect balance between not jostling his bladder too much and not going at the pace of a snail. Not to mention the fact that he didn't want to tip anyone off to the fact that he felt as if he could burst at any moment. He nearly cried with relief when his door was finally in sight.

“Hey,” called a voice from behind him. He held back a groan as he turned to face Natasha.

“What is it?” he asked, trying to keep any strain out of his voice. He clenched one fist, trying to ignore how desperate he was for just a little bit longer.

“I think everyone was trying to discuss dinner,” she said.

“Aren't we just fending for ourselves like usual?” He really couldn't care less what any of them did for dinner at that particular moment.

“Someone suggested we get something together,” she replied. “Everyone else is downstairs discussing if we should go out or order in.”

“Doesn't matter to me.” Tony started for his door again.

“Aren't you gonna come discuss it?” If she knew something was up with him, she was probably stalling him just to get under his skin, or figure out what the problem was, or both. His bladder ached, nagging him to get rid of her and get into his bathroom, and he clenched his other fist.

“Like I said, doesn't matter.” He sighed, frustrated, and turned back around. “Can you just tell them my vote is for order in? We've been busy enough today.”

She looked like she wanted to say a lot more to him, but she didn't. Natasha only nodded and said, “Alright,” before heading downstairs.

He waited until she was gone, just to make sure she wasn't hanging around for any reason- needlessly paranoid, sure, but who knew when she was gonna pull that spy shit? When he was certain that he was alone, he went for his door again, biting down on the inside of his cheek. Really, he couldn't afford to wait around like that, and he didn't know why he even cared if she knew what was bugging him. It wasn't like it wasn't a common problem, but admitting always seemed so humiliating and he liked to think he was above that. It wouldn't be the first time his pride had caused him to something stupid.

He was about to close his door when Clint called from down the hall. “Hey, Tony, where was it you wanted to go?”

He contemplated closing the door anyway and pretending he hadn't heard, but he was pretty sure Clint knew and he groaned, stepping back into the hall. Fidgeting ever-so-slightly, he asked, “What are you talking about?”

“When we get dinner. You won't come down to talk to us but Nat said you insisted we have to go out to celebrate tonight,” said Clint with a shrug. “We figured if you wanted to go out that much you might have a suggestion.”

“What?” He could practically see Natasha smirking in victory. “I never said that. I don't care what we do, we might as well order in. Do you mind?”

“But she said...what's up? You've been on edge this whole time. Are you pissed off about something?” Clint looked ready to talk this out, something that Tony absolutely could not handle. He squirmed in place, hoping that the action was not a dead giveaway, knowing that this was only worse because he could do nothing to assist himself in holding it.

“No, I'm not, I've just been out all day and am trying to get to my own room.” Not entirely a lie, but not entirely the truth either.

“So do you want to go out to eat or order in?”

“I already said, I don't care.” The other man still made no move to leave, waiting for something more to go on. “You know what? Just tell them I said wherever you want to go. You can pick, and we'll all go out and celebrate, but I'm going to want to get changed into something nicer, so if you could please just go and tell them.”

“Yeah, alright.” Clint only looked confused and a bit annoyed, and Tony couldn't blame him. He wasn't much for conversation right now, and his breathing was growing harsh and labored. Each step he took into his room was painful, each movement threatening to disturb his overfull bladder beyond what it could handle.

Things were worse than he had thought and he had been waiting much too long. He put a hand between his legs, grabbing himself over his pants, hoping that could help him cross the room and close the remaining distance between himself and the bathroom. It wasn't that far away, but he felt on the verge of losing control and crossing the room suddenly seemed like too great a feat.

But he tried, because he didn't want to piss himself and because he was so close and because he wasn't going to give up, even if his body had other plans. He felt spurts escape him with every step and his underwear were getting damp, but he didn't think it counted as wetting himself unless it showed on his pants. The bathroom was so close, he had to make it, and he steeled himself for the final few steps only to cross the threshold and feel a spurt that would not stop.

Tony swore under his breath and grabbed himself tighter, but his hand soon grew soaked as a large stain spread across the crotch of his pants. He was pissing himself, and there was nothing he could do to stop it, so he let his hand fall and let out a low moan of relief. The liquid gushed out of him, running down one of his legs and pooling on his bathroom floor, and he was grateful that he at least made it to tile rather than losing control on the carpet.

It was quite some time before his bladder was completely empty, and even when he was done, he still stood in his puddle for a while, trying to catch his breath as his face burned. Today had not been one of his better days and he couldn't get over the humiliation he felt, even knowing that nobody had witnessed him. He had still wet himself, and he knew it, and now he had to find a way to clean it up without anyone noticing and get ready to go out for dinner, and do all of it quickly enough that nobody came looking for him again.

Letting out a shaky sigh, he began to plan it out, shedding his clothes and gathering up towels. He would need a shower now, and he would have to stash the wet clothes and towels until later that night. It looked like he would be doing his own laundry.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm kinda rusty writing the ol' Tony piss, but I tried.


End file.
